LAST NIGHT OVER TEA

An obvious mischief at play, when two souls up to chat aristocrats of a sort; we two gathering to meld our politics in that foggy English style let’s sip this midnight dew.

But don’t drink too fast, it might burn your pretty lips. Take it slow as Sunday, and taste the sweet rose hips. I’m not talking the leafy kind; this brew will blow your mind.

The tea’s hot and there’s nothing to do. Black leaf stranger than brew.

What shall we say when they ask:who’s that young man in blue, the one whose laughter seeps like ether into our curiosity’s chamber. Just tell them he’s the boyyou offered a bit of tea for two.

At daybreak we’ll sneak out into the sharp glow on Tuesday; one cat as sly as another,our steamy tea party for two. And when they ask his name just tell them shyly. . ."Black leaf’s stranger than brew."Ooh, girl, oh yes it’s true.